Betrayal At the Altar by Dolores Delia

Betrayal At The Altar By Dolores Delia Chapter 32

She had nothing to say. She only glared at him with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment.

“I will fulfill anything that Rae–Rae likes,” David said.

“You…” Rachel opened her mouth. She eventually let out a helpless sigh. “Forget it, as long as you’re happy.”

Upon hearing her words, David’s lips curved into a joyful smile. He said, “I came late before and couldn’t accompany you day and night, but from now on. I’m willing to spend the rest of my life with you”

“David, I haven’t agreed yet,” Rachel said.

“I know,” David said as he lowered his gaze and stared at Rachel’s pretty face. The faint blush on her fair cheeks was still visible. “But sooner or later, you will be mine.”

With that simple sentence, Rachel felt the unrestrained arrogance that lay behind it.

A hint of shyness crossed her face. She pushed away the man in front of her and quickly said, “Good night,” before turning around and leaving without looking back.

David stood in place, his gaze falling on the fleeing figure that carried a hint of panic. He lightly smiled.

soon as the door closed, Rachel leaned back against it, still feeling her heart pounding like

been teaching her how to love. Only this man had told her that she

given her many choices, but he also invisibly cut off

to take action but ultimately failed to achieve any real impact or result. A deep sense of frustration

her forehead and lay on the bed, staring at the floating night sky outside the window. Her mind was filled with

much time had passed. She fell asleep in a daze.

all things were just waking up.

washing up, she opened the door and walked out. She saw Old Mrs. Jones sitting in the living room. She quickly walked over and

her lips curving into a meaningful smile as she scrutinized

loose hair behind her ear and replied, “I

his gaze

casually curled behind her head. A few strands fell in front of her

was breathtakingly gorgeous. Her lips, moist and luscious, exuded a tempting allure that

his mind. He recalled a line of poetry by a poet describing the beauty

now that you’re back, let’s have dinner,” Old Mrs. Jones said when she noticed David standing at

tightened his grip on the small green medicine bottle in his hand before taking a step forward. “Okay,” he said.

David pulled out a chair for

chair in a little with a smooth and synchronized